"Ten Ineffective
Feet"

or

"The Running of
the Bull"

Ok, so here's the dealio... My sister and I rode our horses yesterday.
It was a very nice trail ride up in the foothills. On our way up
there, Dad called and told us that the guy he rents his pasture from up in
the hills (Lonnie) had called and was very upset. He'd been trying to get the
bulls in and was having no luck. There were four bulls total (2 of
Dad's and 2 of his own). He was only able to get one caught, loaded
and hauled home. Michelle and I decided to swing into the property on
the way out of the foothills to see if we could spot the remaining three
bulls. It started to rain and the bulls weren't close by so we made a
plan to come up the next morning and see if we
could get them. We came up with a few bales of hay, a quad runner and
the stock trailer. Lonnie had left some panels at the top of the hill
so we loaded those in the trailer and took them down to the flat spot where
we normally feed the cows and added them to the panels already there to make
a makeshift corral. We threw a couple bales of hay into the corral and
took a quick spin up the hill where Michelle thought she'd seen a bull.
Sure enough, there all three of the misfits were. We started calling
at that point.

Calling our cows consists of yelling "COME OOOOOON!!" a
few times. You really have to use your diaphragm and belt it out.
Go on...try it....no one's listening (and if they are, it'll really
make them wonder what the hell you're doing). Immediately after a
couple "COME OOOOOON"s, you typically hear cows bawling and they start to
materialize, which they did. The cows started to follow us down the
hill but the bulls called bullshit and stayed right where they were. A
few of the cows followed us down to the corral and started to munch on some
hay. About this time, the gal that had helped Lonnie attempt to get
the bulls in the day before pulls up next to the corral,
gets out of her truck and says to my big ass, "I don't see
no bulls in there". OHNOYOUDI'ENT!!! I shot right back with,
"That's cause we don't do things the way you do em". I believe I muttered the word "beach" or something under my
breath, too. Michelle said it's a good thing she was getting the quad
out of the trailer at that point or there would have been a nasty cat fight.
I guess my comment was a bit acid cause this chick gives me the "crossed
arms -- harrrumph" body language then marches off on a walk with
her dog. Nobody asked for her sorry help anyhow. Beach.

Michelle and I loaded up on the quad and headed back up the hill where we
last saw the bulls. We got to the top and spotted them in the same
location. We drove around them slowly in an attempt to head them down
the hill. They had hooked up with one skank ass cow that must have
been crossed with a gazelle and also had a crack problem. Her head shot
up and she was OUTTATHERE with the bulls hot on her heels. I'm not
sure how Michelle did it but she launched herself off the quad and somehow
got between the bulls and the cows which effectively separated them.
The bulls immediately found some trees with low branches and did what we
call "brushing up". They get in under the trees and...well...pout.
It makes them very difficult to move. Michelle and I reformulated our
plan. We decided to leave the quad and follow the bulls on foot.
Slooooowly, we moved them. We just let them walk and kept heading them
off until we got them headed in the direction we wanted to go. I'm
guessing that, although sounding quite retarded, the baby talk Michelle was using was working
because they calmed right down and headed towards the corral. After
a bit of a hike and some ass sliding in mud on some pretty steep hills, we
finally arrived at the corral and the bulls went right in. We split
them off and loaded them in the trailer just as wonder girl was getting back
from her hike. Michelle said I should have told her, "Weeeeelllll, I still
don't see no bulls in the corral...oh yeah...that's right....that's cause
THEY ARE IN THE TRAILER!!!" Heh heh. I didn't. I'm too
nice.

Here's where the story gets
gooooooood though.

So we get them
down to my house. We had called Lonnie and
asked him where he wanted us to take his bull. He said Wheatland, so we
unloaded all three, split Dad's two off and got ready to load the third one
back on the trailer. We started to push him toward the trailer and... he
just up and decided he was done and he was gonna take it out on me. Uh huh...Rondazon....six
feet of red cape for 2,500 lbs of beef. He turned around and came at
me like a freaking semi running down a jack rabbit. I made a beeline
for the fence and started to climb. I made it to the top board
when...BAM!!!...he hit me. He hit me sooooo incredibly hard on the
left thigh. Remember when you used to give your friends "the dead leg"
by socking them on top of the thigh? Yeah, like that only sooooo
muuuuuuch harder. It knocked my feet out from under me and I fell in
the mud right under his nose. He found this to be quite to his liking.
As I got to my feet and started to climb again, he took the opportunity to
hit me square in the middle of the back and break out one of the corral
boards with me. I think that's when the cartilage separated from my
ribs. Needless to say, I fell in the mud in front of him again....this
time wondering why the hell I couldn't breathe. So, I get up and start
climbing again. This time I made it just a teeny bit higher and he
took the opportunity to smack the bulls-eye that I must have had on my ass
with the top of his head repeatedly. On the third bounce, he launched
me over the top of the fence. By the way, I've never been able to do a
cartwheel and I'd like to thank his big white ass for teaching me how.
It sure was a good damn thing I had a nice cushy slime filled water trough
to land in. Forty freaking acres of corral and he launches me upside
down and backwards into the nastiest water trough on the property.
Michelle said she got there just in time to see me surface and green water
come shooting out of my nose. Just call me Orca. She happened to
miss the rather confused frog jump out of the space between my jacket and
t-shirt as I shot to my feet. "Are you ok?!" she yelled. "I'm
standing", I said, "but I can't bend my left leg to get out of here".
I did the once over body check and was still breathing and quite mad and adrenalated at this point so we took that opportunity to finish loading
Butthead. He finally got in when Michelle threw a river rock at him
the size of my head. It bounced off of his head and it must have hurt
enough to convince him to get in the trailer. I spent the rest of the
afternoon drinking away the pain. That was A LOT of beer. I wound up having to go in the next
day for x-rays. I had a hematoma on my left thigh the size of a grapefruit.
I couldn't even get my Wranglers on for a week. And that
cartilage will re-adhere to the ribs that are flopping around....right? DAMMIT!!